ZERO / BLEACH / TWIST / REVERSE (here) / DYE / RED

You forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget. - Cormac McCarthy

It was early in the morning on a Friday. That Friday.

A sense of unease hung over the city, like bated breaths. Sakura leaned against the window, her arms wrapped around her knees. She glanced over her shoulder. She could see past her open door. The door to Madara's room was closed, but unlocked. As it had been for years.

She knew how things were supposed to go.

She would ask Madara for his scrying bones. They would whisper their half-baked warnings in her ears. And then Madara would make pancakes for breakfast, just because she asked.

Sakura could still see the way blood coated his hands and dripped off his fingertips. See his tears as he begged. She touched her fingers to the back of her neck. It was beginning to itch just enough to bother her. She knew that the seal would just be rising to the surface of her skin. Garish red and too-dark black. Startling blue splotches dropped in the middle of each wing. So delicate and pretty if she didn't know what it signaled.

In about two month's time, this peace would shatter.

As if to rub it in her face, her phone vibrated next to her thigh. A notification popped up on the screen to remind her (again) that she had a date tonight. She stared at it for a long time. And then she climbed out of bed to go wake him. She made sure her hair fell over her neck to cover whatever was visible there.

She sat at the foot of his bed for a long time. Just staring at the lump he made under the covers.

"You do know that's creepy, right?" his muffled voice crept out between the sheets.

Sakura started.

"You were awake?"

"How is anyone supposed to sleep with someone staring at them like that?" Madara griped in response. He sat up, squinting into the morning light.

She almost flinched back a little as he reached for her. But all he did was pat her on top of the head.

"You doing okay now?"

Sakura stared at Madara's face. His weary eyes and his tangled hair.

After a long time, she gave a tentative smile. "Can you make pancakes for breakfast?" she pleaded.

Madara heaved a sigh. He almost looked like he would roll over and go back to sleep. But then he rose up on his elbow. He threw the blankets off, scratching at his stubble.

"Such a pain in the ass," he grumbled. Shirt rumpled, hair even more rumpled, Madara slouched his way to the door. He nudged the door open with his forearm. Paused in the doorway.

"Go wash your face and come down," he called over his shoulder. Just as she knew he would.

She could hear him stomping his way down the worn stairs. Soon, there was rattling and clanging as Madara began searching for the right frying pan.

Sakura held her breath, holding back her tears. As she tried to understand how he could bear to look her in the eyes after all these years of lies. As she also tried to understand how much she loved the man who would be measuring out flour and greasing a skillet. Even warming up the bottle of syrup, just the way she liked it.

Sakura leaned over to open up the bottom drawer of the nightstand. The black pouch filled with scrying bones lay there. She opened it up. Laid the scrying bones down on top of the bed. They hummed when she passed her hand over them.

As the magic rose to her palm, the scrying bones began to glow gold. The light filled the cracks in the bones, as if each had been gilded with care by the hands of a mater painter. And a familiar voice rose into the air.

Beware the dreams that linger.

Sakura rubbed her the heels of her hands over her eyes.

Beware the dreams that linger, the scrying bones whispered again.

Sakura sniffed before she began gathering the bones in one hand. But before she could pour them into the black pouch, they glowed one more time.

Isn't it more beautiful to create than to destroy?

The question startled her so much that she found herself responding out loud: "What?"

And, of course, the bones did not answer her.

Sakura stared into the bag for a long time. And then she cast a spell Madara had taught her many, many years ago. She wove the strands of magic together, copying each curve, each divot. The golden threads bound together, tightening and smoothing until they formed a perfect copy of the bones.

She poured the real bones into the pocket of her pajama pants. And then she dropped the decoys into the pouch.

For a moment, the skin that had touched the scrying bones stung. The feeling was gone before she could really process the sensation. Instead, she was suddenly filled with a sense of confidence. This was the right thing to do.

"Pancakes're almost done!"

Madara's voice made her jump.

Sakura threw the decoy bones into the drawer. She shut it with a wave of force before she ran across the hallway, into her room. She hid the bones in her dresser, buried under her bras and underwear. Madara would never look through her things. And even if he did, he would never touch that drawer in a million years.

That made her laugh a little.

She was so confident that she knew him. She had always been sure of so many things. Including the fact that the man who had taken her in, who had taught her that she wasn't a defect- that he would always be good and kind.

She felt the tears stinging at her eyes again and pushed them back in.

By the time she made it downstairs, the smell of butter and syrup hung in the air. Madara stood by the stove, wincing as he sipped his too-hot coffee. He made a sweeping gesture with his finger. The pancakes in the pan flipped- perfectly golden brown.

Without thinking, Sakura gestured to her own face.

"You've got an eye booger, Papa," she pointed out.

Madara rubbed his left eye.

"No. The other one."

He rubbed the other eye.

That made her smile a little until she stopped herself.

Madara sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. "Get the syrup. You want orange juice?" And then he stopped. "Maybe tea. That acidity might not be good for you right now. You feeling okay?"

Sakura swallowed.

"I'm fine, Papa," she assured him. She marveled at how even her voice sounded.

Madara's eyes lingered on her face.

"You're…" Madara sighed. "Yeah, you look much better."

He finished making breakfast. They sat across from each other at the smooth wooden table. Madara scrutinized her as she cut her pancakes into little squares. Her eyes flickered up when she heard him mutter "ah, shit". He had poured maple syrup into his coffee.

"You up for work today? Shisui can always cover your appointments if you want some rest," Madara suggested.

Sakura shook her head.

If there was any day she needed to talk to her cousins, it was today.

"I need to brew more sleeping draught. They say mine tastes best," she recited from the memory of a memory of a dream. It wasn't technically a lie.

Madara's lips thinned. For a moment, her stomach tightened. Had he seen through her? Had her eyes given something away? But then he nodded. Because he always let her do what she thought was best.

He tapped his fingers against the table.

"I'll make something good for dinner tonight," he offered.

Sakura almost nodded. She stopped herself.

"Oh… I… I have plans. I've got a date," she said.

Madara's eyebrows rose.

"I won't be out too late, though," Sakura added, unsure why she was trying to reassure him. She was an adult. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with her going out to see someone.

Madara seemed to agree with that sentiment.

"Alright. If you can't get a ride home, just call me. I'll come get you."

Pity the child, she suddenly remembered the scrying bones whispering.

After breakfast, Sakura sat crosslegged on the floor of her bedroom. Madara was downstairs. She could hear the tea kettle whistle. He was probably reading through some boring research. He always needed caffeine to keep him focused.

She cast a silencing spell and then a privacy spell over her room. The barrier bubbled up around her with ease. The surface of the shield glimmered purple and pink.

Confident that Madara wouldn't just walk in, she pulled the scrying bones from her drawer. She scattered them across the rug. They rattled together. The sound could have been unsettling or even strange. Instead, it was familiar. She couldn't quite explain why.

Before she could even channel her energy through the bones, they began to glow gold along the fissures.

Break. Beautifully break.

It was different from what they had said earlier.

Sakura held her hands above the bones before she began feeding threads of magic through each bone. As they had before, the bones cast their own magic back at her. Instead of the small sting or spark, however, a net of light whipped out and tangled around her arms, yanking her close. The places where the magic touched felt hot and cold at the same time. More threads of magic erupted to tangle over her head, pushing her down onto the rug.

The colors of a thousand voices poured in through her ears. The wails of the scrying bone were echoing in her head.

"Break the chains that hold the heart."

"One at a time," she snapped. She pressed the heels of her hands into her temples. "Stop yelling! I can't understand you!"

The cacophony shrieked louder until she feared she would lose her hearing completely.

And then all was still.

A single, thin voice repeated the words. It was raspy, as if it was spoken by someone who had spent a long time crying:

"Break the chains that hold the heart."

"How can I do that?" Sakura demanded.

There was a moment of silence. Where Sakura was certain that she would once again be left with more questions than answers.

And then light erupted from the bones. It filled her with an indescribable emotion that made tears fill her eyes. The light condensed into strands again, forming a soft, translucent web that swirled around her. It felt almost like gentle hands that caressed her face.

"Dream, little dreamer," the voice rasped.

Then the magic was gone. The bones were cold and still.

She tried to push energy into the scrying bones to elicit another reaction. But they were quiet. She sighed, frustrated. And then did a double-take.

Her magic normally encased the bones- almost like a bubble. It would seep into the cracks to light up the bones from within.

Instead, her magic had formed into the same net pattern that had bound her moments before. It hummed. Stable. Powerful. When she sent another bolt of energy at the structure, it barely disturbed the pattern.

She had felt this before. Just once.

The single rib she had stolen from Madara's bag in that dream. It had formed a web that sat over her skin like the finest lace.

Sakura gathered the energy in her chest, taking deep breaths through her nose. Out through her mouth. Inhale- gather the strength. Exhale- up through her chest, past her shoulders, down through her arms. The magic spilled out from her hands, weaving into the pattern she imagined. A symmetrical grid that wove together like a piece of fabric. It felt a little hot, but it also tingled in a pleasant way.

She flexed her hand, watched the spell flex and fold to follow her moving hand. When she moved her fingers into a spherical pattern, the spell warped too, until it was a perfect ball. When she ended the spell, the barrier didn't shatter like her spells normally did. It simply melted away, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Sakura conjured another shield. Thicker this time. It was easier to weave the strands of magic the second time around. And she suspected that it would only become simpler over time. Because something about this magic felt right.

Madara had always taught her that a seamless shield was the most powerful. If there was nothing to snag, then most spells would drip off the shield like water on a duck's back. But the truth was that this spell would bend and fold however she needed. There was no snagging if the surface of the spell could just shift.

"He lied… again," Sakura muttered.

The bones shifted a little. And there was a sound that could have been a soft chorus of murmured agreement.

She had no way of knowing.

Especially not when it was time for her to go. She stared down at the scrying bones for a moment. And then she scooped most of them into her drawer. One of the rib bones went into the pocket of her jeans.

"It's early," Madara remarked, not looking up at her as she descended the stairs. She held out her hand to summon her coat and hat from the hall closet. The sleeves fit over her arms as she turned to look at Madara.

"I'm grabbing coffee with Shisui first," she said.

Madara gave her a casual glance over his book. His glasses sat a little too low on the bridge of his nose. When he smiled, she knew that he trusted her every word. Or had he lied so well about that that she hadn't noticed that too?

"Be safe. Text me," was all he said before he turned his attention back to his studies.

She took the subway to Shisui's apartment. She passed by a bakery on her way to the station. The smell of something buttery caught her attention. She popped in to buy a few croissants, still a little warm as the baker levitated them and deposited them into a waxed paper bag. Sakura tucked the bag into her hoodie as she took the stairs down to the tracks.

It didn't take long for the train to come screeching along the tracks. She got into one of the cars. It was busy. Not much room to sit. So she stood, conjuring a spectral hand to grab on to one of the poles to keep balance. Madara had taught her the trick a long time ago. He looked revolted the first time he'd seen her reaching for one of the straps.

"Humans are filthy," he had warned her.

And she remembered laughing at his words then.

Her forehead wrinkled now.

"We're human too," she had pointed out.

The shape of the bone in her right pocket felt warmer. Tingling. Even though she hadn't channeled anything into it.

Sakura felt the hairs on her arms rise as she turned Madara's words over in her head.

How had Madara responded to that?

She couldn't recall.

She was shaking by the time Shisui opened the door.

"Hey, I was just going to call if you didn't show up s- Woah!" She collapsed against him. Shisui just barely caught her before her knees hit the ground. She grabbed the front of his shirt, shaking him a little.

"Shi, what is Madara?"

"What?"

"What is he?"

"Sakura, what's going on with you? Are you in some trouble you can't tell Uncle about?"

"Shi." Her hands tightened. He took a step back, and she stepped right with him.

"Shi, we're all going to die horribly if you don't listen to me right now. Don't go on your trip. I need you here."

An odd look crossed Shisui's face.

"I haven't told anyone about that."

Normally, Shisui was quick to smile. And he almost looked like he was about to, as if he thought this was some kind of joke. But as Sakura stared at him, he returned her gaze with anything but a smile.

"You're going on a 3 day trip to observe Venus. And then you'll be dead before Christmas."

Shisui's gaze sharpened. "And those two things are connected?"

Sakura shook her head. "I don't know." Sighing, she released his shirt and took a step away from him. "All I know is that you and Itachi can't go. You'll both die."

And then a thought occurred to her.

"Do you have a dagger?" she suddenly asked.

Shisui frowned, rubbing at his jaw as he thought. "Nah, not really my thing." Then his gaze sharpened. His hand froze.

"What?"

"Itachi does."

Sakura rubbed her hands over her eyes. "Great. Fucking great."

There was a pause. And then she heard Shisui sigh.

"Want me to call him here?"

She thought about it. "Yeah."

"You want coffee?"

Her hands fell to her sides. "Yeah."

When she opened her eyes, Shisui was already unlocking his phone. He swiped a few times. And then he looked up at her as the line rang.

"Is this a secret from Uncle?"

Sakura stared hard into his eyes. To make sure he understood here when she answered: "Yeah. And from Sasuke too."

His eyebrows rose.

"Please," she added.

Shisui huffed. On the fourth ring, Itachi picked up.

"Shisui."

Shisui scrutinized her. Sakura held her breath.

"Shisui?"

Not breaking eye contact, Shisui opened his mouth.

"Yeah, Itachi. You need to get here right now," Shisui said.

"Now? I'm going to see you at the shop in an hour."

"Sakura needs to talk to us. Make it quick. Oh and…" The corner of Shisui's mouth finally quirked up a little, "…don't tell Sasuke." He let out a soft "oof" as Sakura threw her arms around his middle. Using his free arm, he gave her a squeeze around the shoulders.

"…Alright. I'll be there."

The line clicked as Itachi hung up.

Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door. Sakura opened it to find a slightly out of breath Itachi. His gaze flickered over her. Lingering on her face. She could only imagine what all this stress was doing to her complexion.

"Are you hurt?" Itachi questioned. He waited for her to shake her head before he stepped into the apartment. The heavy door shut behind him.

Shisui tapped his knuckles against the counter. The coffee machine gurgled by his elbow.

"You got your dagger?" he asked.

Itachi gave him a look. "I told you that it's not a toy, Shisui." But when Shisui didn't smile in return or crack a joke, Itachi reached behind him to pull out a glimmering silver knife. The handle was inscribed with runes in swirling black patterns. She was positive that it was the same one she had seen sticking out of Naruto's shoulder.

Sakura didn't know whether to scream or to laugh.

She felt herself falter a little. Itachi's hands grabbed her, steadying her. The way his forehead wrinkled made her think of Madara. The way he always fussed over nothing. The way he pretended not to care, even as he lectured and made chicken stock from scratch.

Tears fell from her eyes. Dripping onto the linoleum.

"What happened, Sakura?"

"What's going on?"

"I don't know," she managed to say as the tears fell a little faster. Itachi's hands held her a little tighter now.

"I don't know. But I need help. I'm scared," she whispered.

It was mad. How the tangled dreams had woven into one another. Nightmares unfolding into nightmares into worse nightmares. How much was reality? How much was the delusion of a brain bloated with uncontrolled magic?

"Don't worry. We've got you," Itachi murmured.

Exactly what Madara had assured her in another time. Another dream. The echoed words made her burst into full, ugly sobs that left her gasping for breath.

"I can't lose you again. I can't. I can't do this anymore," she heard herself babbling.

The voices of the scrying bone rose and fell in an incomprehensible sigh somewhere in her ears. It was difficult to concentrate on what the voices were hissing.

But she thought she heard one of the voices say: "Stupid cat."